


Memories

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Halloween, Hand Jobs, M/M, Romance, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: Severus receives an unexpected visitor on Halloween.  Because Harry Potter's involved, there's bound to be more to it than meets the eye.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Halloween 2016 Comment Fest at Snape Potter on Livejournal. Prompt by Torino10154 (although the prompt was incorporated v loosely because I am bad at not going off on a tangent :P)
> 
> Unbeta'd, I'm afraid.

Severus stares at the parchment on his desk. There are a couple of hearts on the corner of the paper, brightly coloured with red ink. When he looks closer they appear to be moving, beating under the stroke of his finger. He scowls. _Auror Potter is sexy_ has nothing whatsoever to do with the stasis period for cold and flu draughts. Auror _Potter_ has nothing to do with potions at all. He should keep as far away from them as possible, by all accounts. He remembers the witch handing in her paper with a giggle, twisting her hair around one finger.

_“Are you going to see Auror Potter this evening, Sir? I think he’s so handsome, don’t you? Well, I suppose you must.”_

Severus had taken ten points from Hufflepuff on the spot. _Handsome_ , indeed. Why on earth the entire student population seemed to think Severus and Potter were bosom buddies was anybody’s guess. The Hufflepuff witch wasn’t the first. Malfoy’s brat had asked Severus if Harry had his costume for their Halloween bash on Saturday. How on earth Severus should know what Potter planned to wear was beyond him. Besides, when did Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy become so close? Severus huffs and puts a large cross next to the offensive hearts which flutter around Potter’s name. He gives the paper a ‘D’ just on principle. He glances at the copy of _Witch Weekly_ which he had to confiscate just that morning. Potter grins up at him, giving him an insolent wink. He’s wearing a horrible, brown lumpy jumper with a gigantic pumpkin on the front. He looks atrocious. Severus flicks idly through the pages, tilting the magazine on the side so he can properly get a look at the one of Potter on his sofa looking rumpled and sleepy. His hand in his hair, he gives the camera a sheepish sort of look and his legs stretch out on the soft cushions, firm and long. If Severus’ gaze flickers to the tantalising bulge in the crotch of Potter’s trousers, that’s only because it’s directly in his eye line.

It’s rare for Potter to do the kind of magazine publicity he’s been doing of late and Severus can only assume the whole thing has something to do with his latest bout of political activism. Potter’s got his wand in a knot over bonding equality of all things, after a rather public outing in the _Prophet_ a little over a year ago. Not that Severus gives a hoot about Potter and his ridiculous propensity to take on every possible cause he can, just to ensure he’s constantly in danger. Severus really should have handed Potter over to the Dark Lord when he had the chance, if this is all the thanks he gets. 

There’s a knock on his door and Severus quickly closes the magazine. If there’s one thing he can’t abide it’s the staff tradition of ‘Trick or Treat.’ He avoids it at all costs. If somebody’s knocking on his door he can only imagine it’s a new staff member who will _very_ quickly discover Severus doesn’t participate in such asinine traditions.

“Enter.”

There’s a cough behind the door. A very familiar cough. “Hang on, you’re supposed to come to the door. Then I say ‘Trick or Treat?’ and you get to choose.”

With a low growl, Severus stalks to the door and yanks it open. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

Potter turns his eyes heavenward, shaking his head. He’s smiling a bit, like he’s finding Severus’ anger quite entertaining. Severus wonders they’d put him in Azkaban for turning Potter into a pumpkin just for an hour or two. He suspects they probably might. 

“You still haven’t got this right. You open the door and I say-”

“I _know_.” Severus purses his lips and looks Potter up and down. “What the blazes are you wearing?”

“Oh.” Potter laughs. “I’m a Slytherin.” He does a strange thing with his hands, turning them into claw shapes. “Terrifying, isn’t it?”

“As I would have been your Head of House for seven years, yes, it bloody well is.” Severus folds his arms and glares at Potter, who doesn’t seem at all perturbed. “Trick or Treat is a staff tradition. You’re not Hogwarts staff.”

“I am, actually.” Potter has the decency to look a little apologetic. “Well, sort of. I’m doing a few Defence classes next term. McGonagall asked me.”

“She did, did she?” Severus tries to swallow down the fury rising from the pit of his belly. “Did Minerva not feel she had sufficient resources at her disposal without disrupting the whole school by bringing a celebrity guest in to teach?”

“I’m hardly a celebrity guest.” Potter huffs a bit, peering around Severus in a none too subtle attempt to look in his quarters. “Bloody hell, you make me sound like Lockhart.”

“You do seem rather fond of posing in a provocative manner in all kinds of lowbrow publications of late.”

Potter has the indecency to look pleased. “You saw that, did you? I wouldn’t have thought _Witch Weekly_ would be your thing.”

Severus scowls. “I had the misfortune of confiscating it from an impressionable young witch who seems to be under the rather misguided impression that you are…” he shudders, “ _sexy_.”

“I see.” Potter’s lips twitch into a half-smile even as he tries to look serious. He cocks his head to one side and contemplates Severus. Green and silver looks surprisingly good on Potter. “And what do you think?”

Severus hopes his horrified expression is sufficient to detract Potter from the heat which suffuses his cheeks. “I try to avoid thinking about you at all.”

“Of course.” Potter nods, very seriously. The corners of his lips still twitch and he’s blinking at Severus through his glasses, looking rather edible in his school uniform, hair askew and jaw set in a firm line, shadowed with stubble. Severus tears his eyes from Potter’s lips and arches an eyebrow at Potter.

“Again, why are you here?”

“Trick or Treat. Minerva said it was a tradition. The staff go and see one another and have spiced pumpkin liquor for a treat and if it’s a trick you’ve got to help with marking or something. It’s a bonding exercise.” Potter waves his hand, clearly not having bothered to familiarise himself with the finer details. “It sounded like fun.”

“Pumpkins give me indigestion and you don’t have any papers to mark as you’re not even proper staff. You’re just abusing your position as a Ministry official to take advantage of an otherwise peaceful Friday night.”

“No spiced pumpkin liquor, then?” Potter’s licks his lips and he gives Severus a _look_. One that should, frankly, be illegal. “How about we improvise on the treat?”

Severus hears a clatter from the corridor and a whoop that sounds like Longbottom. He growls and yanks Potter inside, shutting the door behind them before any of his students – or colleagues – start asking too many questions. There are enough strange rumours flying around about his relationship with Potter as it is.

“I can’t abide Samhain. The ghosts will take any opportunity to run riot.”

“It’s not my favourite time of year either.” Potter’s face clouds before the shadows lift and he’s smiling again, something Severus can’t decipher in his eyes. “I thought this might be the year to do something fun. Take my mind off the rest of it.”

Severus turns his back on Potter, pouring a glass of brandy and trying to still the slight tremble in his hands. Potter does look infernally good, confident and masculine with just the slightest hint of uncertainty beneath the surface. The combination is disarming. “I don’t intend to be used as a distraction.”

“I don’t intend to use you as one.” Potter sighs and he approaches Severus, helping himself to a brandy, bold as brass. He takes a cut glass tumbler from the cupboard as if he knows exactly where to look. When he stands upright again, Severus catches his scent on the air. He smells like firewood and fresh, warm cologne. There’s something familiar and comforting about it and Severus has the strangest desire to pull Potter close and run his fingers through his hair. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have other plans, tonight of all nights.”

Potter stiffens at Severus’ side and then he shakes his head. “Nope. No plans. Just wandering Hogwarts corridors, playing Trick or Treat on former professors.”

“I rather imagined you spending Halloween differently. With those close to you, perhaps.” Severus watches Potter out of the corner of his eye. His face twists in a strange expression and he doesn’t meet Severus’ gaze.

“Maybe next year.” Potter looks wistful. He brushes his hand over the sleeve of Severus’ shirt. “Surely my visit isn’t completely unexpected?”

Severus stares at Potter and drops his arm, Potter’s light touch burning through the cotton and onto his skin. “Is it not?”

“Why do you think I keep getting in so much trouble with my potions?” Potter’s cheeks take on a pleasing pink hue. Severus has been back and forth to the Ministry rather a lot of late. He’s a mind to start charging Potter for his services.

“Because you’re an imbecile.” Severus can’t resist a smirk at Potter’s disgruntled look.

“I’m Head Auror, Severus. I reckon I can manage a simple potion without supervision.”

“Is that so?” Severus can’t deny the sound of his name on Potter’s tongue is an unexpected surprise. It sends a rush of pleasure through him, watching the way Potter’s mouth shapes his name. He imagines Potter’s lips plump and parted, his forehead beaded with perspiration. He allows an idle finger to wander along the length of Potter’s carefully knotted school tie. He would rather enjoy seeing how Potter might look without the heavy robes with the silken material against bare skin. Potter’s eyes flutter closed and he lets out a slow breath, the scent sweet with brandy.

“Yeah, that’s so. Besides, didn’t you read the interview?”

“Absolutely not.” Severus has read Potter’s interview, actually. Twice. He poured over the question about Potter’s ‘ideal man’ and couldn’t help finding a rather astonishing number of parallels between Potter’s description and himself. Of course, he dismissed such notions as foolish fancy. A moment of ill-advised wishful thinking.

“Liar.” Potter smiles, his expression almost reverent as he opens his eyes again. He’s so close to Severus now, one hand rubbing along Severus’ arm in a rather distracting fashion. “It’s you, you know. My _ideal man_. I thought it was pretty obvious. Why else would I say I liked someone a bit sharp and grumpy?”

“You know how to flatter a man.” Severus snorts, but he’s not really offended. He read the rest of the description too. There was much more to the man Potter spoke of than am occasional bad temper. “I’m not that person you described, Potter. You will be disappointed if you expect too much of me.”

Potter’s chin juts and his eyes flash. There’s a hum of magic which thrums through his veins. Severus wants to taste it. He wants to press Potter’s palm against his erratically beating heart and whisper all kinds of filth to Potter until he trembles and perspires with it. 

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? I might disappoint you, too.”

“You might,” Severus concedes. He gives Potter a look. “Although as I don’t think particularly highly of you in the first place, I doubt that would be a problem.”

Potter snorts with laughter and he takes a swig of his brandy, moving away from Severus and settling himself on the sofa. He looks good, when his face is framed by shadow and firelight. “Are you going to sit down? You can tell me what you _do_ think of me.”

“I’d rather not.” Severus sits, nevertheless. He doesn’t leave much distance between them, but it is a small sofa. Potter shifts until their thighs press together and Severus can feel the warmth of his breath on his cheek. There’s something about Potter dressed in Slytherin colours with his face so open and honest that makes Severus’ heart clench. He remembers a time when Potter was a scrawny runt of a thing, his words trembling with anger and heartache. They’re not so different, he and Potter, in some ways. In others, they couldn’t be further apart.

Potter shifts so he’s watching Severus head on. He looks serious, his fingers brushing Severus’ knee in a manner that’s startling intimate. “Tell me if I’m getting ahead of myself too much. I don’t mean to push.”

“Yes you do.” Severus brushes a little hair from Potter’s forehead, taking in the dull mark where the vibrant scar used to be. There’s something almost familiar about the gesture. He has the strangest desire to lean in and capture Potter’s lips in a slow kiss, but there’s so much history between them both and Severus has been content with his solitude for a very long time. Beware of Gryffindors baring their hearts. “No matter how much silver and green you wear, you’ll always be a Gryffindor. Barging in, without a thought for the consequences.”

Potter nods, his throat working. “Perhaps. I know what I want and part of me hoped maybe it wasn’t all one sided.”

Severus toys with the bit of hair curling at the base of Potter’s neck and shakes his head. “It’s not _all_ one sided.”

“Oh.” Potter breathes out, his face breaking into a breathtaking smile. “ _Brilliant_.” He nudges closer to Severus and he does a peculiar nuzzle in Severus’ neck, lips touching skin just barely. It’s more familiar than Potter has any right to be after arriving at Severus’ door unannounced, bold as brass. Potter inhales as if he wants to take in Severus’ scent and bottle it deep in his memories. “You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t?” Severus is slightly breathless. He doesn’t remember the question.

“Trick or Treat? Which would you like?”

“I’m not sure you’re clear about how this works,” Severus replies, faintly.

“I’m changing the rules.” Potter sits back a little, his eyes dark and his cheeks already lightly flushed. “Do you want a treat? Nobody ever says trick.”

“I’m not fond of pumpkins.” Severus arches his eyebrow at Potter. “I hope you have a better treat in store.”

“I might.” Potter slides to his knees, running his hands over Severus’ thighs and urging his legs apart a little. When Severus sat to work his way through a pile of fifth year papers he certainly didn’t expect his evening to end like this. He slides a hand into Potter’s hair, toying with the inky strands. The light tug and scratch to Potter’s head draws a hum of pleasure from Potter’s parted lips. He moves closer, reaching for Severus’ trousers.

“Wait.” Severus’ voice is low and gruff.

“Okay.” Doing as he’s told for once, Potter’s hands still. He looks up at Severus, a flicker of confusion on his face.

“No costume.”

“Oh.” Potter relaxes and he gives Severus a grin, his cheeks reddening further. “There’s nothing under these robes. I thought I’d go traditional. It seemed like a Slytherin thing to do, copying wizards from a hundred years ago and all that.”

Severus snorts, softly. “Wizards have worn clothes under their robes for centuries. You must have gone very far back to come up with such a notion.”

“Oh yeah, I looked at all the history books.” Potter laughs and Severus tugs his hair gently, pulling a low groan from his delectable lips. “Naked, then?”

“If you will come and kneel on my floor improperly attired, you must be prepared for the consequences.”

“Of course I must.” Potter chuckles under his breath and then he extracts his wand, murmuring a spell. The magic pulses around them and Severus suppresses a shiver at the sight of Potter kneeling dutifully, wide-eyed and flushed from his neck to his cheeks. “Better?”

“Much.” Severus shifts back in his seat as Potter returns to his task. He keeps a close eye on Potter, taking in the curve of his jaw and the shadows on his cheeks. His shoulders are firm and his arms slender but strong. Dark hair covers Potter’s chest and his nipples are deep, dusky pink. His hair looks even blacker in the shadowy room, the light from the fire catching on Potter’s skin and illuminating every line of muscle and each long, deep, unexpected scar. “Your scars…” 

“Yes.” Potter doesn’t elaborate, his hands working open the buckle to Severus’ trousers. “Do you mind?”

“Not in the slightest. We all have scars.” Severus bites back a groan of pleasure as Potter’s mouth finally touches his cock. He’s mindful they haven’t even kissed yet. He isn’t sure they ever will; if this is just Potter’s way of satisfying an urge on a night which must bring more ghosts to him than most. He wonders who caused Potter’s scars and anger pulses through his veins. He wants to do unspeakable things to the person or people responsible. Potter seems to inspire in Severus a desire to protect in a way nobody else has ever managed.

“God.” Potter pulls back from a moment and stares at Severus, taking in the length of him and licking his lips slowly. “I want you. So much.” He murmurs under his breath something that sounds like _I’ll always want you_.

Severus can’t bring himself to hope it’s more than just tonight. Instead he twists his hand in Potter’s hair, urging him down. “Then take what you want.”

“Fuck.” With his lips saliva slick, Potter slides his mouth over Severus. His lips stretch around the length and he looks up, as if for approval. His eyes are wide and almost glazed and they flutter closed as he sinks back over Severus once more.

Potter has a talented mouth and his tongue running along the length of Severus’ cock makes him groan. It’s been a long time since Severus has had the pleasure of anything other than his own hand or a quick, anonymous fuck which is never worth the loss in wages. With Potter, it’s different. He gives Severus everything he can, seemingly eager to please and well-practiced at the art of sucking just so and flicking his tongue in a manner which leaves Severus panting for more. Considering Potter demonstrated little willingness to learn from Severus at school, to watch him now makes Severus’ heart skip strangely in his chest. He listens for every moan which leaves Severus’ lips and intensifies his efforts when he finds something Severus appears to enjoy. He’s strong without being overly muscular, the lines of his body and the remnants of tan from another long summer catching in the orange and yellow hue of the room. Severus meets Potter’s eyes and tries to read what he can. He’s tempted to push inside Potter’s mind and see what resides there – to drink his fill while Potter kneels before him, naked and exposed. With a sigh of pleasure he pushes aside that thought and tugs lightly on Potter’s hair, sliding his second hand into the thick strands alongside the first. He holds Potter down for a moment, bucking up into his mouth and biting back a moan at the sound of need it pulls from Potter.

“Harry…” The name leaves his lips before Severus can claw it back. With a jerk he pushes up into Potter’s mouth and spills himself as Potter takes everything Severus gives. When Potter eventually pulls back he slowly licks and kisses the tip of Severus’ softening cock as if he doesn’t want to stop tasting him. With a sigh of contentment, Potter sits back on his heels. He’s confident in his physique – letting Severus take in the strong, flat torso and the light muscle definition. He takes in the thick, heavy weight of Potter’s cock which is still hard. Severus clears his throat. “Look, Potter…”

“Do you have a bed?” Potter speaks before Severus can get his words out. “Or just this rug by the fire would do for now.”

“I’m not inclined to roll around on the floor like a teenager.”

“Bed it is, then.” Potter stands and he holds out his hand for Severus. “That way, is it?”

Severus stares at Potter and nods, following Potter who walks towards Severus’ quarters as if he’s been there plenty of times before.

Severus wonders, not for the first time, if Longbottom put something in the punch and this is all just a very strange dream.

*

Potter folds his clothes carefully and puts them on a small chair in the corner of the room, stroking his finger over the tie with a thoughtful smile. “Funny, I thought you’d appreciate the Slytherin more.”

“I have had ample opportunity to have a faceless Slytherin schoolboy on his knees.” Severus strips out of his shirt and outer robes, leaving himself in trousers and nothing else. “It’s an opportunity I’ve never been inclined to take.”

“Oh.” Potter looks up at Severus. “They’re from Yaxley. The scars, I mean.”

A furious anger wells within Severus and he steps closer to Potter. His cock has softened somewhat, but his skin is still warm from the fire. Severus traces his fingers over Potter’s skin, moving softly over the scars as Potter shudders beneath him, shivers rippling through him and his breath quickening under the touch.

“Would you like me to kill him?” He says it with just enough bite to suggest it’s a joke, but Severus actually thinks he could. He’s seen Yaxley in action. He’s stared into his eyes and found nothing in them but his own reflection. Yaxley’s a madman and finally in Azkaban where he belongs. He remembers reading about an Auror being taken hostage for hours before they finally apprehended Yaxley. He doesn’t recall having heard Potter’s name at all. Apparently the Ministry is still good at keeping secrets and protecting its own.

“Don’t be soft.” Potter snorts and he looks up, meeting Severus’ eyes. He presses close and his expression is open and fond. “And you say I’m always charging in putting my life on the line.”

“With good reason.” Severus thumbs at Potter’s cheek and wonders why it’s so easy – this naked familiarity beyond their level of intimacy. He feels as if Potter’s been in his rooms before – as if this is just another night, part of a familiar routine. “Do I know you?” He whispers it, low in his throat. He stares at Potter’s face – Harry’s face – and he’s assaulted with a warm rush of memories. 

“Is it midnight?” Harry flicks his wand and a large clock appears, ticking past the minute. “Oh, brilliant.”

Severus breathes in Harry’s scent, so warm and familiar. With a low growl, he pulls him close and wraps his arms around him. He buries his face in Harry’s hair and strokes his fingers through the messy strands. His night with Harry already feels strange, like a distant memory which slides out of his mind until there’s nothing there anymore but the night before Halloween when Harry wrapped himself octopus-like around Severus in bed and Severus promised to remember.

“I…apologise.”

“It’s my curse, Severus. It’s not your fault.”

Severus tips Harry’s face a little to look in his eyes. “Nevertheless, I’m sorry.”

“It’s just one day.” 

_“It’s just one day in October.”_

_“Carry on.” Severus turns Harry’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together._

_“The person I love the most will forget they love me on Halloween.”_

_Severus contemplates Harry. His heart beats so hard in his chest he has to swallow thickly to get rid of the dull roar in his ears. “Is there a particular reason you’re telling me this now, when we have already spent one Halloween together?”_

_“There’s a reason.” Harry’s somber expression fades and his lips tug into a smile. His eyes are shining and he looks so happy, Severus has to resist the urge to turn to see if he’s looking at somebody else._

_“I see.”_

_“Yeah.” Harry’s cheeks turn a delightful pink and Severus kisses him soundly._

Severus makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat. _Yaxley_. As curses go it could be worse but there’s a cruelty to the way it isolates Harry on Halloween when Severus most wants to take his mind off everything. He knows Harry doesn't handle Halloween well from the only time they spent it together that Severus remembers. He's quiet and sad, his mind full of past times and people lost. At first, they tried spending Halloween apart but it doesn’t work. Harry still gravitates towards Severus, with one elaborate trick after another. He says it's a welcome distraction and he needs to feel Severus' arms around him. To date, Severus has thankfully never turned him away, although it doesn't stop the intensity of his emotion and the unexpected way he wants to hold on tight to Harry in the aftermath of Halloween. Severus runs his fingers down Harry’s back, touching the familiar scars. The memories of Harry - _his_ Harry – come flooding back, bit by bit. 

“Does it feel weird?” Harry always asks.

“A bit like eating chocolate after being around Dementors.” Severus brushes his lips to Harry’s neck. 

If memories of Harry are chocolate they’re the finest, richest truffles. Every inch of Severus suffuses with warmth as his mind fills with laughter and images of Harry’s face tipped up towards the sun. Their first time washes over him like the warm shallow waves on a sandy beach. There’s Harry, standing before him and taking off his clothes with trembling fingers. He’s making cheeky comments and pretending he’s done it plenty of times before, but Severus knows. He knows in the way Harry’s lips touch his own and the way his body moulds itself so close to Severus. He knows in the hesitant questions and the way he looks to Severus for guidance, Severus’ hand sliding around Harry’s own and pushing it lower on his body. He knows in the hitches of Harry’s breath, in the blush on his cheeks and the soft, shy smile which looks so out of place when Severus is used to Harry’s confidence and propensity to charge into things at a hundred miles an hour. Severus remembers tracing the lines on Harry’s body with his tongue and making him feel things neither of them had been able to feel for some time. 

“What’s on your mind?” Harry shivers under Severus’ light touch and he nudges him towards the bed.

“Memories. Good ones. Now get into bed.”

“Do you remember it?” Harry settles under the duvet and waits for Severus to settle before he rests his head on Severus’ chest. Harry told him once he liked to hear Severus’ heart beating. It helped him fall asleep. Severus tugs at Harry’s hair and it draws a soft purr of pleasure from him. “Tonight, I mean?”

“Not any longer.”

“I dressed as a Slytherin.” Harry clears his throat, sounding amused. “You told me to take my clothes off.”

“Of course I did.” Severus is inordinately proud of himself. “I hope you entertained yourself?”

“Nobody entertained me.” Harry pulls a face. “I sucked you off and you haven’t so much as snogged me yet.”

“Blow jobs before kisses?” Severus arches an eyebrow and then leans in to nip the lobe of Harry’s ear. “Such a naughty boy.”

“Sod off.” Harry laughs, but it sounds a bit ragged and breathy. “Where’s my kiss, then?”

“Right here.” Severus rolls Harry onto his back and kisses him, tasting his familiar magic and sweet brandy on his tongue. He pulls Harry closer still, deepening the kiss until Harry’s nearly panting into his mouth. He pulls back to take Harry’s chin in his hand and look at him intently. “It is lucky, I think, for us both, that I was interested in you long before I realised it. I seem to have confused the curse, or the curse is confused by me. It takes me back to a time where I was merely pretending not to like you very much at all.” Severus nips Harry’s neck, smiling against his skin. “My defences are weak, particularly when you turn up dressed for Halloween and looking more delectable than ever.”

“You make me sound like a chocolate digestive.” Harry laughs and his tone is light, but Severus can see the flicker of pleasure in his eyes. It’s strange for Harry, being confronted with the possibility of dismissal from Severus during those hours on Halloween when a history exists that Severus can't remember. “I’m glad there’s a loophole in the curse. It makes it a bit easier coming up with new ways to seduce you.”

“Dressing as a Slytherin was inspired.”

“I’m not sure.” Harry shrugs. “I think I’ve had better ideas.”

The vaguest recollection of a glossy magazine between his fingers makes Severus roll off Harry and reach for his wand, before the memory leaves him entirely. He reaches his hand out and _Witch Weekly_ flies into his outstretched palm. There’s Harry on the front, waving at him and giving him one of his broad smiles. On the pages in the middle there are multiple pictures of Harry which Severus flicks through carefully until he finds the one that jogs his memory. “I believe this would do nicely for next year.” 

“Got it. Let me just…” Harry tries to pluck the magazine from Severus’ hands, but Severus holds it just out of reach.

“While we’re on the subject, why are you lounging all over the pages of _Witch Weekly_ all of a sudden? You know my students are having a field day with Potter this and Potter that. You’re becoming a Hogwarts pin up.”

“It’s for the greater good.” Harry bites lightly on Severus’ shoulder and Severus can feel the huff of laughter against his skin. It sends warmth through his body. He shifts over Harry again and his heart clenches in his chest at the way Harry looks at him. He looks so _fond_. Nobody’s ever been fond of Severus. Not in the way Harry is, with heat in his gaze, flushed, eager and warm in Severus’ arms.

“How is it for the greater good, exactly?” Severus is reminded that Harry hasn’t had any pleasure from the night yet and he kisses the spot on Harry’s neck he knows never fails to get a reaction.

“Bonding equality, of course. Besides, these magazines pay a daft amount for a few quick photos where I try to look sexy on a sofa. I thought we could use it for a holiday.”

“You did, did you?”

“I did.” Harry nods. He arches with a hiss when Severus pushes a hand between them and wraps a slick fist around Harry’s cock. “Christ, Severus. They’d pay even more if you did an interview with me, you know. They’ve been dying to get the inside scoop on what you’re doing to me in your lair.”

Severus squeezes the base of Harry’s cock firmly. “Out of the question.”

“Just a thought.” Harry pushes Severus back and straddles him, looking down at him and running his hands along Severus’ chest. “Will you fuck me?”

“As you asked so politely.” Severus smirks at Harry and squeezes his backside, pulling Harry down over his cock so they can move together like that for a moment. As if he’d ever say no to a question like that.

“Happy Halloween, Severus.”

Severus throws the duvet off them both and makes his way down Harry’s body after rolling him onto his back once more. He plans to explore every inch of Harry again, just like the first time. The second time. The third and the fourth. He plans to kiss every line on Harry’s skin and give him every pleasure. Losing Harry for even one day a year is too much and he wants to make up for every last second he's missed. Harry's hand twists in his hair and Severus hitches Harry's legs up and mouths around the base of his cock and up. He holds Harry open and uses his tongue and fingers to loosen him until Harry's gasping and begging, _please, Severus, please_. It sends a flash of heat through Severus' veins and he takes Harry in one firm movement, clutching Harry back against him and murmuring in his ear, Harry's name, over and over. 

Severus isn't one for whispered 'I love yous' but he does tonight, just this once. He does it when Harry's curled up by his side and they're talking about the day and all Severus can think is _I remember_ , _I remember_ , _I remember_. He whispers it again, when Harry's sleeping with a smile on his face. He says it in the morning, not with words but with boiled eggs, soldiers and tea just as Harry likes it, buttery and sweet. 

They kiss over the paper and Harry reminds Severus that Draco booked them an appointment for new robes for the Malfoy party. Severus tells Harry he's not a bloody mannequin for Draco Malfoy to dress, thank you very much. Severus reminds Harry that he should probably purchase a reasonable bottle of elf wine as Lucius was rather put out by the £6.50 bottle from the Muggle Co-Op last year. Harry tells Severus that Lucius Malfoy can do something impolite with his wine.

“I’m glad you remember me again.” Harry looks up from his boiled egg and toast soldiers, his face etched with emotion.

Severus’ heart clenches and he nods, tugging Harry close for a deep, satisfying kiss. He runs his fingers through Harry's hair and nudges their chairs close so he can feel Harry's warm body against his own.

“I’m glad I remember again too.” He takes a sip of his coffee, putting an arm across the back of Harry's chair and watching him tuck into his eggs. He's so very fond of Harry. It's actually quite sickening. Severus mentally rolls his eyes at himself and forces himself not to think about making any appalling romantic gestures. 

He can save those ideas for next Halloween.

_~Fin~_


End file.
